


once & for all, in the end

by dogbreath333



Series: Ino, ephemeris [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Babies!, F/F, F/M, Language, M/M, POLITICS!, religion!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-06 00:15:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17335079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogbreath333/pseuds/dogbreath333
Summary: Gaara cuts Ino a keen glance. “Which gods will the child know?”Gods. That gives Ino pause. “I don’t…I’m not familiar with any gods.”Gaara turns to look out over the vast greenhouse. “That’s alright,” he says. “I don’t think it matters, anyway. Sit long enough in here...well, you’ll find your own gods. A cedar,” he muses. “Or a cross."Ino is lost at sea. “A cock,” she suggests.





	1. Chapter 1

“Young lady! I want you to know I just saw a mouse over here.”

Ino lifts her hands from the crane’s-bill she’s replanting and brushes the dirt away with a damp towel.

“Did you?” Ino asks politely as she rounds the counter to stand before the old civilian woman who’s been tutting over the bouquets of fresh lavender with thyme and mugwort that Ino painstakingly arranged this morning. “Where’d he go?”

“Well, I don’t know. But I _can_ tell you that there’s got to be a few dead ones in here too, which would explain all the flies.”

Ino looks straight into the woman’s eyes. _Come on, lady. We’re kidding here, right?_ Ino plasters a smile on her face. “It has been a bad summer for the flies, hasn’t it? Feels like I’ve been swatting non-stop.”

“Well! I’ve heard that before! They say that in every establishment in this city. ‘Oh, there’s no helping the flies, it’s been that kind of summer.’ I’ll tell you right now that I had flies in my home last month, and do you know what I did? I cleaned from top to toe. Lo and behold, there was a dead mouse. When I got rid of it, what do you know? The flies went away! Now, I’m not blaming _you_ my dear, but it seems as if everyone’s suddenly gotten awfully dirty and lazy in this city. Rats on the west side, bedbugs uptown! It’s a disgrace. And if you ask me—”

The bell jingles as someone opens the door to the shop. “Would you excuse me?” Ino interrupts, turning on her heel. _God the old bitch is still talking,_ and Ino tunes her out as she makes her way back to the counter.

Behind it, already having made herself comfortable sitting cross-legged on one of the old stools nestled among several potted olive trees—Ino’s been meaning to carry those outside—is Akimichi Chocho.

“Baby girl!” Ino croons, and rushes over to plant a smooch on the child’s head. Ino glances around the shop. “Did you come here alone?”

“Yep!” Chocho chirps. “Mom said I could as long as I came straight here.”

“And did you?” Ino asks as she eyes the paper bag clutched against Chocho’s chest.

“Nope! I bought bread.” Chocho grins impishly.

Ino pokes the girl’s single dimple. “Wow, that’s very bad of you. Where’d you get it from?”

“Michihiro’s.”

“Your father taught you well.”

Chocho thrusts the warm bag at Ino and potters off into the back room. “Auntie? Do you have butter? Or olive oil?”

“Your _mind_ ,” Ino marvels. “Let me check and see.”

“ _Excuse_ me,” the civilian woman interrupts icily from the other side of the counter.

“Just a moment!” Ino calls out, and turns briefly towards Chocho to roll her eyes in great exaggeration. Chocho giggles and follows Ino to the register to watch her ring up the woman’s purchase.

“So, you went with the lavender bouquets after all?” Ino chats as she wraps the arrangements in paper.

The old woman offers no response, and snatches everything up when Ino’s finished. Ino’s prepared to let the whole thing slide— _it’s a business, right? My father taught me that the customer is almost never right, but you don’t shit where you make money—_ until the woman turns her gaze on Chocho.

“Now this?” she seethes. “I really don’t know what this city is coming to.”

Ino sees red.

With her last shred of sense, she grabs a few crumpled bills from the tip jar. “Chocho, why don’t you run down to the corner and get something for the bread?”

Chocho, having known Ino her whole life, takes the money and runs.

The sounds of the door jangling shut in the quiet shop clears Ino’s head of some of the foggy rage—just enough to speak.

“I don’t really care that you’re a civilian, or elderly, or whatever the fuck else—step foot inside my shop again, or god help you, so much as even look at that girl…” Ino reaches out and taps her fingers just lightly against the woman’s temple. She smiles when the woman flinches away. “Do you know what the Yamanaka can do?” Ino asks. And that’s that.

Ino can tell it’s difficult for the woman to show Ino her back, but Ino relishes every second of the old bag’s harried escape from the shop.

Ino’s still standing there, white-knuckled, when Chocho pokes her head back inside the front door. “All clear?” the kid inquires.

Ino just sighs, and slinks away into the back room. “Flip that sign on the front to closed,” she calls out over her shoulder.

After a moment, Chocho joins her with the bread, a knife, the little pat of butter she got from the corner store, and the change Ino had given her earlier. Ino raises an eyebrow at that.

“He gave it to me for free,” Chocho shrugs. “It’s just some butter. Not everyone hates me because I’m biracial. And my mom’s an immigrant. And I’m fat.”

Ino finds Chocho’s eyes. _She’s only eight years old, and yet._ “You’ll be the greatest of your clan,” Ino suddenly realizes. “You’ll surpass your father, and you’ll be the pride of the Land of Fire _and_ the Land of Lightning.” Ino grits her teeth and forces herself to speak the truth. “That woman doesn’t hate you. She’s known at least two wars, and a bitter life. She’ll die bitter, too. But you won’t. Chocho—”

Ino reaches out and catches Chocho’s chin when her head starts to droop. “Look at me, Chocho. That is not what your life is going to be like. Do you hear me?”

Chocho scrutinizes Ino for a moment, as if she’s looking for honesty in Ino’s face to back up the words.

“I hear you,” Chocho says finally.

Ino releases her chin. “Good. Cut that bread, would you?”

Chocho gets to work, and Ino leans back in her chair and closes her eyes until she feels Chocho place a thick slice of crusty bread in her hand.

“How’s things with IsaShikaCho,” Ino asks through a full mouth.

Chocho squints at her. “You’re asking me how Isami is…”

Ino swallows a smile. _Smart-ass_. “I wasn’t asking about Isami specifically. I can ask my own little cousin how he is myself, can’t I? I was just wondering how your teamwork is going.”

“Auntie,” Chocho screws her face up in a grimace. “It’s _brutal_.”

“Ohhhhhh, no!” Ino laughs aloud. “You can’t tell me that!”

“It’s true!” Chocho is getting worked up now. “I’m sorry, but he’s the worst! He’s totally ruining things for me and Shikasuma.”

Ino gets ahold of her laughter, wipes her eyes, and rises to put the water boiler on for tea.

“You can’t walk away from this, Auntie!” Chocho continues railing. “He’s bringing shame to your clan’s name!”

Ino just shakes her head, and looks at the tea selection. _Chamomile, definitely. This kid needs it._

“Hey! You listening to me?”

“Yes, Chocho,” Ino says, patient as a saint. “But you’ll be in the academy next year, everything will even out eventually. He’s just got to learn at his own pace.” Ino can’t help but smirk. “It’s not his fault he’s at such a disadvantage—he doesn’t have Karui for a mother.”

Chocho looks at Ino all too shrewdly for a child of eight. “Shikasuma said…”

“What did Shikasuma say,” Ino deadpans.

Chocho shrugs. “She said if we had a little Ino, our team wouldn’t suck so hard.”

Ino pours the tea.

“Auntieeeeeee. The clock’s ticking.”

Ino rears back. “And what would you know about clocks? Not a damn thing, I hope! Excuse my language! I’m not even thirty! You’re just gonna have to suck it up with Isami, he’s your only option at the moment.”

Chocho looks chastened, and Ino feels abruptly guilty. _It’s not her,_ Ino thinks. _This is Choji and Shikamaru in the girls’ ears, trying to get children to do their dirty work. They know how it would end for them if they came around and tried to guilt me into motherhood. Little do they know._

Chocho sips her tea quietly, and Ino does the same, until she finds she can’t anymore.

“Alright, fine,” Ino says with exaggerated weariness. “I’ll tell you a secret, but you have to promise not to tell a soul.”

Chocho’s eyes come back to life. “Okay.”

“I’m headed out to Sunagakure soon.”

Chocho wrinkles her nose. “That’s a boring secret. And I wish you wouldn’t go, anyway. Aunt Sakura gets sad when you leave.”

Ino sniffs. _Sounds like Shikamaru and Choji again,_ but she brushes it off. “Well, here’s the cool part,” Ino continues. “Aunt Sakura is coming with me.”

“Oh!”

“Because we’re going to have a baby,” Ino whispers conspiratorially.

Chocho’s face is so torn between excitement and confusion that Ino has to laugh.

“How!” Chocho yelps.

“We’ll make it out of sand and clay, then Sakura will use medical ninjutsu to bring it to life.”

Chocho rolls her eyes. “If you won’t tell me how, I’ll just ask my mom.”

Ino knocks back the rest of her tea. “Go for it, kid. Her guess will be as good as anyone’s.”

 

* * *

 

 

Ino watches Sabaku no Gaara from across the greenhouse. He’s carefully prodding at the soil of an aloe vera plant, and he considers it for a moment before tipping a watering can just slightly so as to allow a delicate stream of water to dampen the dirt. Briefly, he touches one of its leaves before moving onto the next specimen.

Ino has thought at length about this moment as she and Sakura made their deliberately meandering trip to Suna. They had talked about and around the subject for hours, but now that Ino’s here, she can finally admit it—it really was all riding on this moment.

But there’s no question now. Ino’s thought process can be distilled down to yups. _Yup. Yuuuep good call. Gooood idea. Yep. Yep yep yep. Ohhhh yes._

She yeps all the way across the greenhouse.

“Kazekage-sama,” Ino purrs, significantly less ironically than intended. “We keep meeting like this.”

Gaara lifts his eyes from his work. “Ino,” he says in the low, hoarse voice she’s come to know well over the years. “It’s wonderful to see you.”

Ino lets the moment of greeting linger—she knows enough about Gaara to let him approach the topic at his own pace.

The Kazekage clears his throat—there’s nothing special in the sound, but the room listens. “A moment, thank you,” he says. The botanists and gardeners are quick to wrap up their work and exit, but they all offer warm, genuine goodbyes to Gaara on their way out.

Maybe Ino’s a little hot under the collar. _Signed, sealed, delivered._ She moves a fraction of a step closer.

“Sakura and I are here to ask something of you.”

Gaara looks nonplussed. “I understood your letter.”

“This is a question that needs to be asked and answered in person, isn’t it?”

Gaara inclines his head, waiting.

“Will you help Sakura and I have a child?”

Ino already knew Gaara’s answer, but she couldn’t have anticipated how it would feel to watch the staggering, knock-out smile spread across his face.

“Yes,” he answers, with all the gravity that question deserves.

Ino lets out all the breath inside her body in one go. “Fuck, okay,” she goggles. “That’s… hot. Awesome. Thank you. Should we talk logistics?”

They make their way towards a couple of stools tucked away next to a massive tomato plant. Ino carefully moves a pair of loppers onto the ground and sits.”Penny for your thoughts?” she asks.

“Will I be a father to the child?”

“Is that a diplomatic query, or are you asking if you’re gonna be in the kid’s life?”

“Both.”

“Those are two separate questions.”

“But they’re not quite separable, are they?”

Ino grins crookedly. “No, I guess they’re not.” She sighs. “We were born into a generation of orphans. But I’ve always had a big family.”

Gaara’s eyes soften. “A child should have as much family as is willing to have them.”

“Why can’t a baby have a father and two mothers? The more the merrier, I say.”

“Which leaves the diplomatic issue.”

Ino screws up her face. “Sakura may complicate things.”

“I hear she’s a candidate.”

“Very much so,” Ino confides. “But we have time. Kakashi’s got a few years left in him.”

Gaara considers for a moment. “I think it would be best if it was kept quiet for now,” he decides.

“I agree.”

Gaara cuts Ino a keen glance. “Which gods will the child know?”

 _Gods._ That gives Ino pause. “I don’t… I’m not familiar with any gods.”

Gaara turns to look out over the vast greenhouse. “That’s alright,” he says. “I don’t think it matters, anyway. Sit long enough in here… well, you’ll find your own gods. A cedar,” he muses. “Or a cross.”

Ino is lost at sea. “A cock,” she suggests, and ghosts her hand up Gaara’s thigh to squeeze him, gently, through his trousers.

There’s something shy in the way Gaara reaches down to cover Ino’s hand with his own, but it’s at odds with the unashamed look in his blistering green eyes.

“Ino,” he states simply.

And that’s that.


	2. Chapter 2

Iwagakure is surprisingly lovely in the springtime. 

Ino thinks so, anyway. She hasn’t been here in six or seven years, and she finds it’s a pleasure to be back.

“That’s the second trimester talking,” Sakura grumbles, and then spends days locked up in a  _ tête-à-tête  _ with Kurotsuchi that Ino, frankly, could have sat in on, but couldn’t be bothered with. 

Instead, Ino reacquaints herself with every corner of the city —brawling soberly in dive bars with hardened, old-school Rock shinobi, sniffing around libraries full of the most wonderful ancient scrolls, filling herself with smoked lamb, beef jerky, rye bread, and all of the other stick-to-your-bones Earth Country delicacies—and often enough finds herself leaving the village to marvel over the stark, desolate landscape. 

On one of their last days in Iwa, once Sakura more or less wraps up her business with the Yondaime Tsuchikage, Ino manages to drag her out for one such trip through the plateaus and craters before they traverse the continent again. 

Ino’s relieved to see the tension loosening from the set of Sakura’s shoulders. “That  _ is _ the last of the schmoozing, right?” Ino asks. “You said this wasn’t going to be a working babymoon.”

“I’m sorry,” Sakura apologizes. “But this isn’t Suna. We can’t just traipse around Iwagakure on your pregnancy-brained whims.  _ I _ can’t travel like that.” Sakura gives Ino a meaningful look.

“I know,” Ino concedes. “Were you productive, at least?”

“Yeah. Kurotsuchi says either Shikamaru or I would have her support.”

“Okay, so  _ you _ , you mean.”

“Or Shikamaru,” Sakura insists. “Don’t start.”

“Fine. Did Naruto’s name come up at all?”

“Nothing serious.” Sakura sounds almost wistful. “Savior of the universe he may be, but,” she shrugs.

“I know,” Ino jumps in to save her from saying anything unflattering.

“Regardless,” Sakura continues, “Kurotsuchi wants Kakashi out. Now that Darui’s stepped up too…”

“That’ll put Terumi Mei in the hot seat as well.”

Sakura nods. “We’re embarking on a political experiment here—if we’re going to move away from the corruption and militancy of the past, we’ve all got to commit to putting young, idealistic people in office. It’s a brave new world, Ino.” Sakura spreads her arms wide, indicating—everything. 

_ New, huh?  _ Ino spins in a slow circle. Nothing but stone and fog, mile after mile.  _ This is how the Earth must have looked in the beginning. _

Sakura catches Ino in her introspection. “Okay. Done.”

“You sure?” Ino teases.

“For the moment. I would ask what you’ve been up to, but it did reach my ears that the pregnant former Lieutenant of Konoha T&I was out picking bar fights in unsavory parts of town.”

“Yikes,” Ino flinches. “I heard about that too.  _ And _ , rumor has it she’s banging the future hokage, so she’s also got that going for her.”

“What were you doing in bars, anyway?”

“Taking in the local culture.” Ino meets Sakura’s eyes. “Obviously I wasn’t drinking.”

“ _ Obviously,  _ Ino. I know.”

“Just checking,” Ino shrugs. “Honestly, I’ve been trying to keep busy.”

Sakura steps close and tucks an errant blonde strand of hair behind Ino’s ear. “Thinking a lot?”

“Yeah,” Ino admits.

Sakura quirks a soft smile. “Lay it on me, Yamanaka.”

Ino wastes no time. “Okay. Breastfeeding or formula?”

“Oh,” Sakura says bemusedly. “This is what you’ve been thinking about?”

“Yes.”

“It’s up to you, Ino.”

“Come on, you obviously have a preference,” Ino wheedles.

“I’m a medical professional—of course I more or less have a research-based  _ opinion.  _ But I can’t have a preference, they’re not my tits.”

“Fine. Breastfeeding it is,” Ino says uncomfortably. 

“You can always change your mind.”

“Let’s move on before I change my mind  _ now.” _

“Alright,” Sakura says. “I’ll throw one out there. Are we going to raise the kid to reject the subtle reinforcement of gender norms by shinobi society as a whole?”

Ino is stunned. “Wow. You don’t pull any punches.”

“I know that’s weird to ask—”

“Is it though? Wow. I mean… yes, right?”

“Right?” Sakura asks. “Why does it seem so daunting though? Like, if it’s a girl, is she going to get kicked out of the academy for refusing to go to kunoichi class?”

“You can just do away with kunoichi class when you’re hokage. Problem solved.”

“Ino—”

“Fine, fine. Yamanaka or Haruno?”

“...Why...not...both?” Sakura flounders.

“Sakura...”

“Yamanaka, obviously. This baby is your blood. This baby will be part of your clan. My family is nobody, Ino.”

_ Forward. _ “Our great-great-grandchildren will probably thank us for giving them the name Haruno.”

Sakura has abandoned all pretense of disagreement. She sits herself down shakily on the rocky earth. “Fuck.”

_ Easy, after all.  _ “Haruno Inochika,” Ino says. And there’s no arguing with that.

 

* * *

 

They’re still spending a few weeks hiking lazily through the Land of Honey when Ino drops unexpectedly low. 

Ino knows it’s early. Sakura is no obstetrician, but she is arguably the most skilled medical ninja alive—she reassures Ino through countless hours of vicious pelvic pain and agitated trips into the woods to pee that early lightening is very normal for a first pregnancy.

Still. They decide not to delay the inevitable. They turn towards Konohagakure.

There are several regions of Water Country that are easily navigable by train. They take as many as possible—Ino has lost all patience for their labored pace. She’s consumed by the urge to get home.

The train is a hot, brightly lit beast. Ino sits in a window seat and presses the left side of her body—shoulder, belly, thigh, calf, foot—against its warm flank. The darkness outside the window borders on impenetrable. Once or twice she sees the light of another train passing on the other side of the river, and occasionally, the gleam of a house. When Ino is restless, Sakura murmurs nonsensical stories against her neck. 

Concentrate closely enough on the water, Sakura tells her, and you’ll see dim, drowned lights beneath the surface. River monsters, underwater cities—Ino is certain that Sakura is making it all up on the spot. But Ino imagines that these are the gods their baby will know.  _ The river, the train, the darkness. _ She wonders if Gaara will approve. It carries her through the night.

 

* * *

 

It ends up being a tough piece of political maneuvering to get Gaara into the city to see the baby—there’s no real reason for the Kazekage to be in Konoha at the moment, but Sakura finagles her ass off, cost it what it will.

He’s due to arrive in a few weeks. This is how long it takes the gears of bureaucracy to turn, and it’s a hard pill for Ino to swallow—but as she’s laying in a hospital bed with Sakura passed out in exhaustion on her right shoulder and Inochika snoozing in the crook of her left arm—well, no time like the present to think about the future.

It’s something to think about while she lays there... better than _oh my god, this inexplicable creature is made of my blood and bone and chakra, how_? And _has anyone ever shintenshined a baby?_ _Remember to ask Grandmother._

“Knock-knock.”

Ino glances up, and stiffens. Shikamaru. He and Choji have already visited half a dozen times since she went into labor two days ago.  _ It’s like they don’t have anything better to do. _

There is a part of Ino that wants him to just go away. She feels vulnerable in the extreme. There had been times, as a girl, that she had pictured a scenario all too similar to this one, with Shikamaru at her side instead. But that was a lifetime ago. And this is Shika.  _ Blood. _

“Stop bothering me, I’m convalescing.”

Shikamaru just leans against the door jamb, hands infuriatingly in his pockets. “Convalescing?” he scoffs. “You look like you’re in fighting shape. Why do they still have you here?”

Ino shrugs. “I’ll leave tonight.”

Shikamaru strolls into the room and crouches in front of the bed to gently jostle Sakura’s shoulder. Sakura comes awake easily and all at once, quick to take in her surroundings.

“At ease, soldier,” Shikamaru jokes.

Sakura rises and stretches with a series of alarming cracks and pops. “God, these beds,” she grumbles. Then stands quite still, staring at Ino listlessly.

_ She’s always going to be this tired now _ . “Go home, shower, disco nap,” Ino demands. “Please.”

Sakura glances at Shikamaru, who nods.

“Fine,” she grumbles, and then leaves through the window  _ like her bizarre sensei _ , and not at all like the head of the hospital and future Hokage.

“Strange woman you got there.”

“You too.” Ino really means it.

Of all things, this makes Shikamaru smile.

Her father taught her to be suspicious of a Nara who smiles like that. “What are you so pleased about?”

“Shiho is pregnant again.”

“Holy shit!” Ino explodes. “We couldn’t have planned this better if we tried.”

“How fast do you think we can get Karui knocked up?”

Ino shudders. “That’s not even remotely funny. Hassle her at your own peril, I’m not getting involved.”

Shikamaru moves to sit at the edge of the bed. “You ready for this?” he asks.

_ Have wondered that myself. Have turned it over a hundred, a thousand times.  _ Ino lets her hand hover just over Inochika’s head, covered—unexpectedly—in brown, peach-fuzzy hair.  _ Brown hair, of all the strange fucking things on this earth. _ Though she’s got Ino’s eyes.

“Yes,” Ino answers. “We’re not doing this just to do it. We’re going to do it right.”

“Good,” Shikamaru answers. He taps out a staccato rhythm with his foot on the tile floor.

Ino considers him. “What is it?”

“Kakashi says the council wants to speed things along.”

“Who?”

Shikamaru squeezes Ino’s hand. “It’s Sakura.”

Ino flops back against the bed as dramatically as possible without jostling the baby awake. “No offense, but fuck yes.”

“I’m not offended, I didn’t want that damn hat anyway.”

“Shit,” Ino realizes. “But why now? Talk about bad timing.”

“About that,” Shikamaru says. “I’m thinking it has something to do with this.”

Ino levels a sharp gaze at Shikamaru. “How?”

“They want to capitalize on the fact that she’s here, in the city. They’re afraid that if they wait, you’ll drag her out into the sticks again.”

The implications of this are so jarring that Ino’s chakra spikes, momentarily, out of control. Inochika wakes, and begins to cry.

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Ino and Naruto are stripped down to tank tops and bare feet, drinking gin on Sarutobi Hiruzen’s head.

Ino is drunker than Naruto, but then, Naruto drinks a lot less these days. (“Baa-chan said it was getting to be a bit much,” he’d explained to her. “Which I said was crazy coming from her, but I guess she wants me to learn from her mistakes.”)

Ino, on the other hand, loves gin. “Mother’s ruin,” Choji had jokingly called it, but that’s absurd, because Ino’s a great mother. She hasn’t been at it long, but she knows she’s done pretty damn good so far. Maybe breastfeeding didn’t work out, but, y’know. Sakura said she was proud that Ino tried for as long as she did.

“Do you think I’m a failure for giving up on breastfeeding Inochika?”

Naruto frowns. “I don’t really think about breasts.”

“Gay.”

“Yeah,” Naruto sighs. “Gay. Gin is a gay drink.”

“I know!”  _ A kindred spirit, this one is. _ Ino flails an arm out to try and hold Naruto’s hand, and ends up knocking over the gin in the process. 

Naruto sets the bottle upright, but Ino’s managed to spill a good portion of what little remained. “Look at what you’ve done now, you drunk bitch!” Naruto stage whispers. “You’ve spilled your pussy booze all over Sandaime.”

Ino wheezes. “Good. Do you think he was homophobic?”

“Sarutobi?” Naruto considers. “I hate thinking about him.”

Ino scoots closer to Naruto. He’s on the verge of saying something. He’s weighing his words—then he grabs the gin and takes a measured sip of it. “Ugh, can we not talk about ghosts? Miss Thing is Hokage now, and she’s a bona fide homo.”

Ino looks out over the city. The celebrations had gone on long into the night, but it’s well past three in the morning now, and the heat seems to have finally gotten the best of the revellers. Ino thinks of Sakura holed up in the tower, wrapping up inauguration business. She thinks of Inochika at the Nara compound where Ino had dropped her off for the night, probably tucked away in bed with Shikasuma. Ino spares a moment to think of herself too—getting drunk on top of Hokage Rock with Naruto. Naruto, who’s looking out in the same direction, thinking who knows what.

“Are you okay?” she asks him, for what feels like the first time in years.

Naruto closes his eyes. “She’s going to make everything okay.”

Ino closes her eyes too. She figures, if she does, maybe she’ll see what Naruto sees.  _ This is why they didn’t choose him _ , she realizes.  _ He’s got no idea what Sakura’s going to be up against. _

But Naruto’s gotten on his soapbox now. “We’re in one of those times and places in which things can really change for the better. It’s this generation. We’re ready. Sakura’s gonna let me take the lead on improving infrastructure in the civilian neighborhoods—do you know how long a project like that has been neglected? Probably since my dad’s time, at least. They’ve all been living and working in unhealthy, unsafe environments, because  _ we _ as a shinobi-run society wouldn’t prioritize funding towards civilian needs. Oh! Also, I talked to Hinata and she wants me to be a peer mentor to former Hyuuga branch kids. There’s so much upheaval going on there, and she thinks I’d be able to relate to their struggles, and stuff.”

Naruto is smiling softly and looking proudly out on everything below.

“That’s really, really good, Naruto. But what about  _ you?”  _ Ino presses.

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” He squints suspiciously at her. “Are you asking if I’m mad they didn’t pick me to be Hokage?”

Ino shakes her head. “I’m not even sure what I’m asking. I guess...well, I’m glad you’re keeping busy. But are you just going to do that for the rest of your life?”

“What, help people?”

“Naruto,” Ino says as she draws his face towards her. “That’s you—you’re always going to help people, no matter what. But I’m asking if you’re going to stay in Konoha and  _ keep busy,  _ forever.”

Comprehension is dawning on Naruto’s face, but he just digs his heels in. “What’s wrong with being busy? There’s no war, no enemy. Just work—I have to work. I’m letting go of that dream of being Hokage, and that sucks, yeah. But Sakura’s the woman for the job. I’m not very smart, Ino,” he laughs bitterly. “There’s work to do. I just need to keep doing it.”

“What about Sasuke?”

Naruto’s face cracks open. “He’s busy with Taka stuff, I guess. I see him every couple months.”

“How long are you going to keep that buried?” Ino asks, as gently as she can.

Naruto sniffs. “Forever.” 

But there’s a petulant tone to his voice which tells Ino that it’s been on his mind. She doesn’t press him further.  _ I’ve been there before, myself. _

“What about you then?” he asks.

Ino can’t help but smile. “Chi is the coolest thing that’s ever happened to me, so that’s really, really, insanely, abundantly good.”

“I love that puppy,” Naruto says dreamily.

“I wish you wouldn’t call my daughter ‘puppy.’”

Naruto’s toes curl. “But she’s so  _ squishy _ .”

“Freak,” Ino mutters, but she knocks her head affectionately against his shoulder. 

He smiles down at her. “You didn’t want to settle in Konoha though, did you?”

Ino takes a moment to gather her thoughts.

“Ideally, I want the freedom to come and go. But that’s difficult to come by with a brand new infant, and a Kage for a partner.” She scowls. “ _ And  _ certain council members ordering intelligence-gatherers to monitor my movements just in case I decide to try and coax their liege lord away from her duties.”

“It’s fucked,” Naruto agrees.

“But it is what it is,” Ino says. “I want to see you and Sakura bring change to this village. But honestly, after all these years, and wars—all the deaths, and the politics, watching myself,” Ino takes a moment to breathe. “Fuck. Watching myself in the mirror become a child, then a child soldier, then someone I didn’t even know...God, the truth is that sometimes this life makes my skin crawl. Fuck, I’m drunk. Do you hate me for saying that?”

“No,” Naruto says.

“Well good. You shouldn’t. Because this village has done  _ much _ worse by you than it has by me. I just want you to think about how much you’re willing to give to a place that gave you so little in return.”

Naruto swallows, hard. “But it’s home, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. It’s home. I guess. You and Sakura, and Inochika, Shikamaru and Choji...you’re all here. My father was born and died here. His bones are here. Yeah, I guess it’s home. I’m not going anywhere any time soon.”

Naruto hugs her close. “That makes me happy,” he says tearily. 

_ He doesn’t get it. Gaara’s out there. Temari. An old woman in Suna who smelled like thyme and Yamanaka Inoichi. Drowned cities and memories of Sakura on a train through Water Country. Gods I haven’t found yet. Mountains to climb, seas to dive in. Naruto doesn’t get it. But he will. _

 

* * *

 

“Uncle Choji!” Inochika bellows. “Today’s the day!”

She leaps at him and Choji spins her around before setting her down on the ground. “The day for what, kiddo?”

“The day I destroy your daughter in one-on-one combat.”

Choji blanches, then looks to Ino and Sakura making their way through the front gate of the Akimichi compound for help. “She’s been here 30 seconds.”

Chocho peeks her head around their door. “That was some challenge, little one,” she intones, cracking her knuckles before dragging Inochika inside.

Choji wearily ushers Ino and Sakura through the door, into the sitting room. He watches Chocho and Inochika disappear through the house, towards the back yard, then turns to the room at large. “I worry about that girl.”

Shikamaru coughs and pipes up from where he’s buried deep in the couch, with Shiho perched, bird-like, on the arm of the sofa next to him. “What did you expect? She’s the spawn of Konoha’s two rowdiest bitches.”

Sakura, in a move that conjures up images of her as a much younger woman, springs across the room to put Shikamaru in a headlock. “You gonna talk to your Hokage like that, huh? Shit for brains!”

Shiho squawks and high tails it to the other side of the room.

Ino rolls her eyes at the proceedings. “Honestly, I’m surprised Inochika’s got a spine at all, considering I named her for the two most useless, lily-livered men in this city—you bring shame to your father’s names—”

Ino pauses suddenly at the electric crackle of chakra that zips through the room.

Karui is standing in the doorway, holding a pitcher of iced tea hard enough it looks like the glass might crack.

“Shiho, get your shoes on.”

“Karui, are you leaving?” Choji tries to put his arm around her.

“Oh, yes I am. You bunch can ham it up all you want, I’m in no mood to watch the three of you suck each other’s dicks. Call us when the food is done. Shiho—lets go spar.”

“Oh. No, please,” Shiho begs.

“Get up woman!” Karui thunders. She rounds on Shikamaru. “This is the mother of your child and you’re content with the fact that she’d rather do math all day than pick up a sword?”

Shikamaru groans and curls into a pillow. “Leave me out of it.”

Shiho is red in the face and looking aggrieved, with her hair all standing on end, but she’s putting her shoes on. She’s mumbling to herself.

“What’s that?” Karui asks dangerously.

“I said! Well! I’m...frankly! Cryptology doesn’t exactly require a sword! I’m the best codebreaker in this village and....well, I’m indispensable! That’s what the Hokage said. Thank you Hokage-sama! Again, for that.”

“You’re welcome Shiho,” Sakura says kindly, but she’s looking at Karui. The two of them have more or less buried the hatchet. Family is family, however tenuous the connection. They have a mutual respect for each other, at least.

Ino, on the other hand, has a robust appreciation for Karui, who’s smiling devilishly now.

“That’s more like it!” Karui hauls Shiho up by her shoulder. “This is a family of big personalities, you’ve got to stand up for yourself, woman. Now, if we could just get your kote-uchi strike in even  _ half _ decent form,” and they’re out the door.

“Asuma-sensei would be proud of you two,” Ino comments dryly once the door slams shut.

“Can it,” Shikamaru whimpers.

“I’d like to clarify that I have no idea what my wife is talking about,” Choji adds. “I would never suck Shikamaru’s dick. I would, however, suck Ino’s dick.”

“Thanks Choji.”

The door opens again, and Shikasuma enters, smoking a cigarette which is nearly down to the filter. “Where are those two going? Looked, uh...dire.”

“Out!” Choji yelps. “Outside with that, oh my god.”

Shikasuma renters, cigaretteless, a moment later, stripping off her jonin vest and tossing it on the couch. Shikamaru sits up and looks at his daughter like she hung the moon. “Hey kid.”

“‘Sup, Pop—oh sorry,” Shikasuma raises her voice to address all those gathered. “I regret to inform you all that Isami will not be able to join us tonight.”

“Isami was invited?” Ino offers rather intentionally tonelessly.

“Very typical!” A heretofore hidden Nara Shinya leaps to his feet from where he’s been tucked away behind the couch. He’s clutching a book on shogi strategy in his hands. “Isami is the only one who understands my  _ pain.” _

“Has he been here the whole time?” Sakura whispers to Ino.

“Oh,” Shikasuma says. “It’s Shinya! Tell us more about your terrible no good very bad life, Shinya.”

“You wouldn’t understand, sister. You’re a shill of the  _ state.”  _ He points directly at Sakura when he spits the word ‘state.’

“Do you get cuter everyday?” Sakura asks him. “Where did you learn the word ‘shill?’ What is an eleven-year-old’s conceptualization of statehood? Do you need a job, Shinya? We need critical voices like yours in our government.”

“Don’t engage with him, Hokage-sama,” Shikasuma warns. “He hates women.”

“Untrue!” Shinya shrieks.

“Okay, Shikasuma,” her father intervenes. “You should probably go check on Chocho and Inochika out back, make sure they’re both still alive.”

Ino and Choji make eye contact, and their eyes say to each other things like  _ oh fuck _ , and  _ adult supervision probably required. _

They move to follow Shikasuma. “Coming?” Ino asks Sakura.

Sakura starts to rise, but Shikamaru shakes his head. “Can I borrow her for a minute?”

Ino knows what a minute means, when they start talking business. She looks to Sakura, who offers her a rueful smile. “Duty calls, I guess. Go watch our girl.”

Ino goes.

“Sorry boss,” she hears Shikamaru say to Sakura. And then, “Shinya, make yourself scarce.”

Ino finds Choji on the back porch, watching the fight from a distance. Shikasuma, on the other hand, is up close and personal, circling around Chocho and Inochika. She’s taking bloody  _ notes.  _

“If there was any doubt that one’s a Nara...” Ino cracks. “Shinya, on the other hand. Well, he likes shogi, I guess.”

“How about yours!” Chōji laughs. “She moves just like you do. The speed, the fluidity. She’ll catch up to Chocho within the year.”

Ino shakes her head. “Chocho’s not even twenty, and she’s more ruthless every time I see her. She’s not slowing down anytime soon.” But Ino’s distracted.  _ She moves just like you do,  _ Choji said. And maybe she does. But when Ino looks at Chi, she sees Sakura—every time.

Ino’s daughter is a good student. She’s applied herself diligently to learning the Yamanaka clan techniques, and has whiled away countless hours with Ino discussing the art of poison. She’s spent summers in Suna honing her lightning release and learning—well, various things having to do with sand that Ino never quite understood—with Gaara. But at the end of the day, Inochika always looks to Sakura. In taijutsu, the twelve-year-old is unparalleled. Every hit is evenly measured and powerfully doled out. And with fine control of such large chakra reserves, sometimes one solid connection is all she needs to end a fight. And always, there is a strange, compelling elegance to her movements. Ino finds that it’s a joy to watch Sakura and Inochika spar—they think and move so similarly—Ino’s left with visions of ouroboros, gobs of sentimental philosophical bullshit.

Inochika even  _ looks  _ like Sakura now, strange as it is. Just a few months ago, Ino had—embarrassingly—cried alone in the bathroom after cutting Inochika’s beautiful, long, mahogany hair, at the girl’s request, into a more practical bob. (“Like Mom’s,” Inochika had said.)

Ino had actually thought about saving some of Chi’s hair, until she realized that was  _ batshit insane,  _ and threw it away.

Ino’s startled from her reverie when Shikasuma starts yelling and whooping. Chocho’s put Inochika on the ground.  _ That’s more like it _ , Ino thinks.  _ The day a Yamanaka child puts a nearly grown Akimichi woman down in a fair fight is not a day I’m prepared for. _

“Easy, Chocho!” Choji scolds.

“Please!” Shikasuma fires back as she offers Inochika a hand up from the ground. “This one needed to be taken down a peg.”

Inochika looks like she’s ready for another round. “Chocho, please teach me the lateral bolt. I want to bring more raiton techniques into my taijutsu—actually, please just teach me everything you learned under the Yondaime Raikage.”

Chocho laughs as the girls climb the steps to the porch. “We’ll start with the lateral bolt, okay?”

Ino licks her thumb and wipes away a smudge of dirt from Chi’s cheekbone.  _ Blink, and next thing you know, you’re your mother. _ Inochika tolerates this like only a child raised in proximity to Naruto could—the man fusses over Ino and Sakura’s daughter like a hen with one chick.

“I know it’s not as cool as learning Unruly Ay’s techniques second-hand,” Ino rolls her eyes. “But maybe we can get you out to Suna for a few weeks to work on your ninjutsu before you graduate.”

Inochika’s response is not what Ino expects. In fact, Inochika’s not responding at all. She’s staring at the ground, looking shifty. “Chi?” Ino touches her shoulder.

“I want to go to Suna.” Inochika says, then quiets again.

“Okay. Let’s talk about it later,” and Ino lets Inochika slip away into the house.

Later doesn’t end up coming until they’ve spent long hours lingering over dinner. Shiho ends up getting drunk, which proves hilarious, particularly to Shikasuma. The farcical atmosphere is exacerbated when Shikasuma then orchestrates a fight between Sakura and Choji over—of all things—some inane detail of the Rookie Nine’s first chunin exams. (“Right, that’s what I’m saying—that all happened  _ after _ I killed the scorpions,” Choji insisted. “You’re remembering it wrong, Choji,” Sakura responded. “I was the one to kill the scorpions. Right Ino?” And things escalated from here.)

By the time they make it out of the Akimichi compound, night’s coming on fast.

Sakura tucks Inochika under her arm and apologizes. “Sorry Chi, I can’t follow you guys home yet. Gotta stay behind and talk with Shika and Shiho.” She glances at Ino “Intelligence from Sasuke,” she says in an undertone.

Inochika hugs her mother. “It’s okay Mom. I’ll have tea ready for you when you get back.”

Ino and Sakura share a look that only the mothers of a very cute, very dangerous twelve-year-old girl can share.

“Thanks babes.” Sakura kisses them both. “Catch you guys later.” And she ducks back around the gate.

Ino looks to her daughter. “We gonna have that conversation now? Or do you want to wait until Mom’s home?”

Inochika starts walking towards home. “No. Just you.”

There’s a suspicion growing in Ino’s belly. But she waits Inochika out.  _ She’s Gaara’s daughter too, after all. She’ll speak when she’s ready. _

They’re halfway home by the time Inochika is ready. It’s not a long walk, anyway. Even after the inauguration, Sakura would hear nothing of leaving their home in the Yamanaka compound.

Inochika stops on a quiet corner. “Everything will change when I graduate the academy, right?”

Ino considers that. “Some things will.”

“But what if  _ I _ don’t? What if I  _ can’t _ ? Okay, you’ve put me in an awkward place here. I’m already the daughter of two Kages. And  _ you.  _ So I’m just supposed to become a genin, then a chunin, and maybe a jonin, then it’s all over? What if I’ve already used up everything that’s special by having special parents? What if there’s nothing left?”

_ My blood, my bone, and my chakra. My daughter.  _ “There’s only one way to find out.”

Inochika waits.

“You have a few choices here—”

“Mom, I don’t want to take the exams.”

“Okay.”

“But I want to keep training.”

“Okay,” Ino repeats.

“You’re not gonna help me at all, are you?”

Ino just smiles.

“I want to do what you did. What else is out there?”

“Now you’re asking the right questions.”

Inochika’s confidence is growing. “I want to leave Konoha for a little while.”

Ino’s heart is thundering in her chest. “Let’s go then.”

Inochika pauses. “It’s not wrong, is it?”

“Why would you ask that?”

“I’m  _ from _ here. Shouldn’t I...I just don’t want to forget.”

Ino nods. “Follow me.” She turns from the path towards home and takes to the rooftops, with Inochika on her heels.

Ino leads her daughter deep into the forest, and when she finds a place that feels right, she stops. She cranes her head up to look to the very tops of the trees. “You grew here, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Inochika answers firmly.

So Ino crouches down and plunges her hand into the rich earth. She must break every perfectly manicured nail with the force of her strike, but it doesn’t matter now. She pulls up a handful of dirt and encourages Inochika to hold out her hands. It’s deep and black and good, and Ino had delved far down enough to reach clay red as blood. She presses it into her daughter’s hands.

“Don’t forget your soil,” Ino tells her.

Inochika pours the handful of dirt into her pocket. “I’ll take it with me when I go.”


	4. Epilogue

“You from Konoha, love? I recognize the accent—my husband’s from Konoha. Beautiful part of the continent, isn’t it?”

Inochika smiles at the proprietress of the little streetside cafe—if it could even be called a cafe...the place is a shoebox—and takes the proffered menu. 

“These are nice,” Inochika says. “You work quick. I passed by last week and you hadn’t even set up shop yet.” The menu is just a little rectangle of parchment, but it’s been painstakingly lettered in lovely script. “Yeah,” Inochika adds at length. “I’m from Konoha.”

The woman sticks out a hand for Inochika to shake. “I’m Kazusa. You been here long?”

“Since the beginning, actually.”

“I see. Got a name, girl?”

“I do,” Inochika says, evasively. “Although it gets me in trouble sometimes. Or out of trouble, depending.”

“Try me.”

“Haruno Inochika.”

Kazusa whistles. “Put my foot in my mouth there, didn’t I?”

“What’s your story then, Kazusa? For all I know, you’re the Godaime Raikage’s second cousin.”

Kazusa howls. “Fuck if I know! Not surprised you can pick out a former Kumo shinobi though.” Her laughter settles. “Alright, take a seat then. What can I get you?”

“Just a ginger ale.”

“You’re wasting my time for just a ginger ale? Your mother was a Hokage, kid. I know you got some coin.”

“A sandwich too, then. Anything is fine. Thank you, Kazusa.”

“Alright.” Kazusa ducks back inside, and Inochika is left with her thoughts. 

With no distractions, she finds that her body is aching from working, and her brain is aching from thinking. Although, admittedly, she’s been doing more of the former. But rebuilding a hidden village from the wreckage of its own bones is mind-bending work. 

That morning, Inochika and Sasuke had taken one look at the disaster of documents and specifications spread out across Uncle Naruto’s makeshift office and high-tailed it out of there. Inochika is no architect—the blueprints mean nothing to her. But she can swing a hammer. She’ll rebuild Uzushio one brick at a time if she has to, as long as there’s someone there to tell her where to put the damn bricks. 

Sasuke, on the other hand, had announced that he didn’t want to “so much as look at, smell, or hear another Uzumaki for at least twenty-four hours.” (“You picked the wrong fucking village to rebuild then!” Uzumaki Karin had hollered after him.)

While Inochika is daydreaming, Kazusa brings out her food, and the ginger ale. “Should we be expecting a visit from the Nanadaime Hokage, then?” she asks.

“Soon, yeah,” Inochika says, and starts eating. “Is this brie? I love brie.”

“Yes, it’s brie. You know—it’s a shame. This town is dead boring. No gossip to be heard of.”

Inochika puts down the sandwich. “Fine. I’ll indulge you. My  _ mothers _ are in Sunagakure shacking up with my  _ father _ —Sabaku no Gaara—and enjoying their well-deserved retirement, the three of them.”

Kazusa visibly files that away for later use. “We’re gonna be good friends, I think.”

“Probably,” Inochika agrees. “I really love this sandwich.”

Kazusa laughs. “Enjoy it, kid,” she calls over her shoulder.

Inochika drinks her ginger ale and lets the sun warm her skin. After a while, she lifts her hair from her sweaty neck and ties it up in a knot.  _ Mom will be happy when she sees I grew it out again. _

Before she gets up to pay, Inochika turns the now empty ginger ale bottle on its head, and watches the last drop make its way down the glass. Until her attention is caught by the print on the bottom of the bottle.

**MADE IN KONOHA**

She looks around the street to see if anyone else is in on this bizarre joke, but—no. Just Inochika and the ginger ale. 

She finally rises to pay Kazusa, but finds that she can’t leave the bottle behind. She tucks it into her vest pack.

“It’s the company you keep,” Inochika explains aloud to no one in particular. And she has to laugh, because it’s not bad company at all.


End file.
